Vines

Like vines, we creep upwards

Grasping, pulling, lifting

And at times we find ourselves tangled

With others

Not of the roots

Looping together

Crisscrossed

Strangling

Meeting on account of some unknown force

Whether once

Or many times over

Holding tight

Or not at all

Sometimes however

When we stumble over ourselves

Backtracking

Entangled with our past

And hung by our own choices

The person I am

The one I used to be

Ashamed

Like a vine, a parasite

Killing what once thrived

This leech

Draining life for its own selfish desire to live

~ Quill x

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